


Differences

by DictionaryWrites



Series: Patrician & Clerk [12]
Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Fingering, Biting, Bruises, Kissing, M/M, Marks, Rough Sex, Stoker Blake - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 02:14:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18540220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: Stoker Blake is different to Lord Vetinari.





	Differences

Stoker Blake was different to Vetinari.

Drumknott was different with him, too, than he was with the Patrician. The dynamic with Vetinari was clean and carefully defined: there were certain rules about how and where they touched one another, and most of it wasn’t sexual. The sexual touches that they did have were through clothes: Vetinari would put his thigh between Drumknott’s or grab at him through his trousers, would bite him or kiss him as he ground himself down... And  _mostly_ , he would watch Drumknott touch himself, or watch him with a proxy, with some assistant from the Seamstresses’ Guild.

There was almost always an element of  _tight_  control: things were organised, scheduled, neatly separated into their disparate elements, and even the occasional acts of spontaneity retained a distance.

Stoker Blake was incapable of distance.

He  _touched_ , and he touched all over, when they were working together, grabbed at his body, moved him about, and now, when they were alone together? There was no tight control here, no careful segmentation of words and actions.

“Bend over.”

“Make me.”

“I will, lad, don’t you think I won’t,” Blake murmured, and grabbed him, shoved his hands into Drumknott’s hair and kissed him so hard Drumknott felt his head spin, even as he gasped and leaned up and into Blake’s body, grabbing at the oil-stained fabric of his jacket. Blake was in his  _space_ , and Drumknott worried less about touching him, without permission, without particular invitation, it was--

It was different.

Blake smacked his arse, making a loud clap sound in the room and mingling with Drumknott’s moan, and then he was shoving Drumknott hard over the rickety table in the little shed, dragging his trousers down and shoving his shirt up so he could lean in and  _bite_.

Drumknott knew that Vetinari had some sensory dislikes, when it came to engaging one another. He didn’t like their bodies to be pressed together, without fabric between them, for sex: he hated, he had once said, feeling the way their skin stuck when they were each sweating with exertion, hated the sensation of it. He liked the  _look_  of it, when Drumknott was asheen with sweat and gasping: he merely did not usually like to touch. He didn’t usually enjoy kissing, either.

Stoker Blake was still Vetinari. In the latter, Drumknott was fairly certain he still disliked the  _sensation_  if kissing, that he kissed him for the sake of Drumknott’s response just as he did usually, but even the way that he  _kissed_  was different. Vetinari usually kissed him slowly, carefully kissed him on the mouth and let Drumknott give way, but Blake?

Blake’s kisses were all about possession, and his teeth... Vetinari only ever bit the sides of Drumknott’s jaw, his neck.

Blake bit him wherever he could reach.

Drumknott heaved in a choking gasp as Blake’s teeth dragged over one buttock, leaving sharp, lurid little marks over the top of his arse and the base of his spine, sucking little bruises into the flesh, and Drumknott moaned, grabbing, scrabbling at the table beneath him, heaving in gasps between desperate noises as Blake shoved his thighs wider apart. 

“Aidan,” Drumknott groaned. “ _Aidan_ \--”

Blake slipped a slicked two fingers forward, pressing past the ring of relaxed muscle and driving smoothly into him, and Drumknott  _hissed_. This was something Vetinari wouldn’t do, either: he’d watch Drumknott, or he’d watch the proxy, but he’d not do this himself, usually, but Blake, Blake--

“Gods, I want to see you come apart,” Blake growled against the base of his spine, and as he dragged his fingers at a crooked angle, he grazed his teeth over the thin skin there, and Drumknott felt his cock give a desperate lurch as his hips bucked, the sensation rocketing straight up through his core, making him moan. “Come here, now, move your hips like--  _that’s it_ ,” he hissed as Drumknott ground his hips back against his fingers, even though it made his knees quake and his thighs turn to jelly, and Blake bit him so hard Drumknott knew that the bite mark would be  _obvious_ , digging right into the flesh, and Drumknott came while biting back a scream.

“Aidan,” Drumknott mumbled, shoving his face against his forearm, and Blake laughed, nipping at the inside of his buttock and making him jump. He patted his arse before dragging up Drumknott’s trousers, and he heard the sound of Blake swiftly cleaning off his hand. Some things didn’t change. 

“Get up, lad,” Blake said. “Time to pop back to work.”

Drumknott groaned, and made no move to get up until Blake hooked him by the back of his waistband and dragged him to his feet. His legs were somewhat shaky, and he fell against Blake’s chest, but Blake didn’t mind at all, and just used the opportunity to kiss him once again. 

Different.

 _Very_  different.

And he was certain Vetinari enjoyed it, in a way, in a different way, but-- Oh. But it was  _good_. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up [on Dreamwidth](https://dictionarywrites.dreamwidth.org/2287.html). You can send requests [on Tumblr](http://patricianandclerk.tumblr.com/ask), too. Requests always open.
> 
> Please, please remember to comment and let me know what you think!


End file.
